that time of year
by daylighters
Summary: two times they celebrate christmas as friends, and one time it isn't quite so platonic. [snowbarry three-shot.]
1. mistletoe

**summary:** in which it is a wasted christmas unless there is at least one kiss under the mistletoe. set post-1x09 ; _the man in the yellow suit_.

/ / /

Caitlin Snow was a lot of things. Perceptive was one of them.

She watched as everyone else began to slowly exit the Wests' home. Eddie kissed Iris goodnight, and Caitlin wasn't the slightest bit surprised to see the way Barry looked away, feigning interest in the Christmas tree, as if the sight of them together burned his eyes. Iris lightly pushed Eddie away, kissing his cheek and whispering a simple goodnight.

If she had to guess, she would say Barry had finally confessed to Iris how he felt. Considering her comfortable state with her current boyfriend, Caitlin would reckon Iris didn't reciprocate his feelings. And for that, her heart broke for Barry.

She saw the way he looked at Iris. Like she had put the stars in the sky, and done so with a smile brighter than every constellation combined. Sometimes, it filled Caitlin with an unspeakable pang. She wrote that off as sadness and nostalgia over Ronnie, a name that still caused a flash of pain to shoot through her.

Emotions were, of course, all scientific reactions to stimulation.

It was just kind of hard to remember that when those emotions, scientific or not, completely overwhelmed a person.

Rejection wasn't anywhere near as awful as death. She knew this, and not in a self-pitying way, but in a practical sense. She knew the death of her father when she was younger was far more painful than romantic rejection in high school.

But she also knew that being in love with someone who didn't love you back could easily shatter a person into a million little pieces. Not that she had ever fallen in love before Ronnie. She was simply as certain of this as she was that her hair was brown, Barry had super speed, science explained everything, and Cisco had an unhealthy obsession with Star Wars.

(She wouldn't dare admit that maybe, just maybe, it was because she was slowly but steadily falling for someone who didn't love her back. Someone who had just been rejected by somebody who didn't love him back. That was irony at its finest, and she had no interest in allowing herself to feel those things.

Not openly, at least.)

Cisco and Eddie both departed within a few minutes of each other, bidding everyone goodnight while Caitlin observed from the sidelines. Iris said an awkward goodnight to Barry before darting up the stairs to her bedroom, and Joe retired to his room for the evening with an ominous glass of eggnog.

Leaving Caitlin with Barry. Alone.

At first, he seemed startled to notice her hesitantly hovering by the Christmas tree. As if he had been so lost in his thoughts that he had entirely forgotten her presence. Then a minuscule smile crossed his expression, filled with so much light that it made the sun at its very brightest appear dim.

"Cait. Interested in more eggnog? I'm not sure there's that much left, but–"

She shook her head, and he shut up. It was often like Barry to ramble on and on, especially when he was stressed or nervous. But he was neither of those things now, nor did he have any reason to be. It wasn't like she made him nervous, that was the territory of Iris West.

After a fleeting moment of silence, she finally spoke up. "You told Iris how you felt, didn't you?" Despite it being a question, it sounded more like a statement. Firm yet understanding.

A beat passed. She wondered if he was going to try to lie, despite the fact that his emotions were written across his face. Except, lying had never been Barry Allen's forte, not really, not unless it was necessary. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"I'm gathering it didn't go well?"

He let out a short laugh. "No, not particularly. I mean … I don't know." He chuckled again, ducking his head. She couldn't help but find the movement oddly endearing. "I'm happy for her and Eddie, honestly. I'm happy she's happy, it's just …"

"You would prefer it if she was happy with you." This time, it was a statement, through and through.

Barry smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. The realization of that, that the light was dimming in his eyes at least for tonight, hit Caitlin with the force of a punch. "You know me too well, Dr. Snow."

She found herself smiling back, as she often did around him, though she worried it was just as halfhearted as his.

Barry Allen's ability to always bring a smile out of her was something that still came as a surprise, even after how much time had passed. They were friends, that was true, but she could still perfectly recall what he had said to her a short while after they first met.

 ** _I just noticed you don't smile too much_**.

Life was always changing. Evolution was apart of everyday life, and this shouldn't have come as such a shock to her. But he had been entirely correct – she hadn't smiled too much. Or ever, really.

Until he came along.

Caitlin tucked a loose strand of light brown hair behind her ear, not thinking of the way his gaze darted up to settle on her face as she did so. "You looked like you needed someone to talk to," she said softly. "So I thought I would stay for awhile longer. If you want."

Always trying to seem happy in even the worst of situations, she was hardly caught off guard when Barry smiled again. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind that." He sat down on the edge of the Wests' cough, patting the empty space beside him. Caitlin hesitated, glancing at one of the nearby chairs, but he shook his head, patting again.

Persistent little speedster, wasn't he?

With a quiet little sigh, she took a seat next to him. Keeping a safe amount of space between them, of course. Not that it mattered either way, because they were just friends. "So what did she say?"

Barry exhaled, the smile slowly slipping from his expression. She hated to see it fade. "She didn't say anything at all, that's the thing. I was just talking and talking, spilling everything I'd kept bottled up for so long, and – and what could she say, Cait? She's in love with Eddie. It's fine. I'm fine."

Caitlin would totally believe that. If it didn't seem like he was trying to convince himself more than her, that is.

The thought that Iris could have apologized, or talked to Barry about it did occur to her, but she saw no sense in suggesting that. It would only hinder Barry's process of accepting all of this. "Well, at least you finally let it all out. That's a good thing, isn't it?"

He nodded, glancing down at his lap. The colorful holiday lights surrounding them, almost ethereally lovely with their soft glow in the near dark, caused his brown hair to appear almost reddish. She couldn't help but think it was rather … beautiful.

Caitlin was not a particularly touch-y person, never prone to excessive hugging or public displays of affection. A hug here or there when it was meaningful, a hand to hold in times of distress, but nothing over the top. It just wasn't her style.

For that matter, neither was comforting people who had just had their heart shattered by the person they had spent almost their whole life hopelessly in love with.

Despite all of that, she was prone to being there for those who needed her. Especially the people she cared about. And she had come to care about Barry Allen (perhaps too much, but that was a realization for another night). Quite a lot.

Hesitantly, Caitlin intertwined their fingers, responding to his startled look with a half-smile that she hoped appeared reassuring. "Everything will be okay in the end. If it isn't okay, it isn't the end."

"With sayings like those, _you_ could be a motivational speaker."

"I think we both know I prefer science over emotions."

Barry chuckled, his attention dropping to their hands, so messily yet carefully tangled together. "I can definitely understand why," he muttered. There was still a certain sadness about him, easy to sense, and Caitlin felt her heart physically _ache_ from the thought of him being in any kind of pain.

She wasn't certain when her protective nature over him had shown up. All she knew was that it had, and there was no getting rid of it now. Not that she wanted to.

But truly, how could she possibly protect him from this?

"Thanks for staying," he said suddenly, their eyes meeting once more. She felt something in her chest, not the usual pang she was accustomed to, but something that felt more like a skipped heartbeat. Highly illogical, but– "And for everything."

Caitlin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Everything?"

"Helping me become the Flash," Barry clarified. "I couldn't have done any of it without you. O-Or Cisco and Dr. Wells, of course, but … still. You've helped a lot, and I can't count the number of times you've saved my life, and dozens of other lives in the process. So, thank you for that."

There was that strange feeling in her chest again, far more prominent than before. Almost as if it was attempting to swallow her whole. She tried to ignore it, instead plastering a small smile on her face. "You don't need to thank me, Barry."

"Yes, I do," he insisted. Always stubborn, always sticking close to what he thought was right, always following through with it. Even if his entire world was crashing down. It was one of the things she admired most about him. "I do need to thank you. I might be the Flash, but … the reason I am is you."

Another beat passed, this one longer than the last time.

(It felt like her heart was going to pound right out of her chest, and at this point, she would have gladly allowed it to. Anything to stop these unwanted feelings. She wasn't ready to fall in love again, wasn't ready to feel _anything_ like this again.)

Barry paused, clearing his throat awkwardly. "And, uh, and the others. Without you … guys, there is no Flash."

This time, Caitlin glanced down at their twined hands. Her hair brushed in front of her face, thankfully hiding her quickly warming cheeks. "Well, then. Thank you for always saving the day."

She had never been particularly skilled with words. She couldn't give long, sentimental speeches that left people flushed, not the way that Barry did. But the meaning was just the same, and she hoped he could sense that.

It seemed that he did. His fingers gently grazed his jaw, eliciting a startled sort of yelp from Caitlin, before he tucked her hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek. "You know, no one's Christmas should pass without at least one kiss under the mistletoe."

Caitlin blinked rapidly. "I don't recall ever hearing that rule before."

Barry's eyes glinted mischievously, in a way that suggested she had never heard it because he had just thought it up. Suddenly, the light pressure against her skin was gone, leaving her feeling cold even with the heating, as he vanished in a blur. He was back before she could consider standing up, the Wests' front door cracked slightly open, letting in even more cold air.

She was about to chastise him for that, before noticing what he held in his right hand.

Mistletoe.

"We wouldn't want to break holiday tradition," Barry said, with a hopeful smile that caused butterflies to flare up in her stomach. (Which was such an unrealistic expression, those feelings were clearly due to chemistry, but she was too shocked to focus on that right now.) "Would we?"

Caitlin blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.

And then she stood up, a smile filled with the same kind of child-like adoration she often saw his expressions reflect. There was something crazily bright and hopeful about Barry Allen, something that inspired Caitlin to continue searching for the good things in life, keep moving forward, no matter what. "No. No, we wouldn't."

With a steady slowness (such a drastic difference from his typical brisk pace), Barry took a few steps closer to her. She felt her heartbeat quicken with each step, the pulse in her wrists hammering from pure adrenaline, and then his left hand cupped her cheek and his lips were pressed softly against hers and she could hardly breathe.

For a kiss that couldn't have possibly meant anything to him, other than a show of gratitude for her being there for him, it certainly meant a lot to her. Too much.

It ended far too soon for her liking, but Barry kept his forehead lightly leaned against hers. His dark eyes were sparkling, and perhaps not just because of the twinkling fairy lights hung throughout the living room.

He was tragically beautiful, she realized with a pang that felt far too familiar to her.

(So much for not falling in love again.)

"Merry Christmas, Dr. Snow."

She swallowed hard. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Allen."

( _We are_ _ **quite the pair**_ _, Mr. Allen._

 _Yes, we are, Dr. Snow._ )


	2. just for now

**summary:** they are both wrecks with tired eyes and confused hearts and sadness coursing through their veins. but still, they persist. set post-2x09 ; _running to stand still_. sequel to the previous one shot, _mistletoe_.

 **author's note:** many thank you's to everyone who has reviewed and read! also thank you so much for your kind words, i'm literally so happy that people are enjoying my writings. i may write a third part to this, so let me know if anyone is interested in that!

. . .

She wondered if this was becoming a new tradition of sorts.

Cisco, Jay, Wally, and Patty had already departed for the evening, with Iris and Joe heading up to bed a few minutes after they left. And there stood Barry, hovering by the stairway, staring blankly at the door as if he was still expecting someone else to walk in. Maybe his dad. Maybe Harry. Maybe no one, and she was reading too much into it.

Whichever it was, he didn't seem to notice that she was still here. The deja vu was so strong that it was nearly overwhelming, and she cleared her throat before she could get lost in the memories. He snapped his head towards her, green eyes suddenly alert as they fixated upon her.

Well, so much for not getting lost in the memories.

( _You looked like you needed someone to talk to. So I thought I would stay awhile longer. If you want._

 _ **Yeah, I wouldn't mind that**_ _._

And he hadn't.)

"Cait, hey." Despite the awareness in Barry's eyes, his voice sounded dazed, absent. As if he was present, but not really, not mentally. At that, she felt a slight pang. He had been so _distant_ ever since the Zoom drama started up, flitting in and out of conversations, too lost in all of the stress and worry he felt to focus on much of anything else.

Other than his girlfriend, that is.

(Again, she thought back to exactly twelve months ago, as they once more lingered in Joe's living room once everyone else had vanished. She remembered what she had said to him, the epitome of bluntness:

 _ **I'm happy she's happy, it's just . . .**_

 _You would prefer it if she was happy with you._

 _ **You know me too well, Dr. Snow.**_

She wondered if he knew her as well as she had known him last Christmas.)

"Lost in thought?" she guessed, taking a single step closer to him. They were on separate sides of the room, which had been okay throughout the evening. It had been fine when he was with Patty, and she stuck by Jay's side. It had been fine when there were distractions.

There were no distractions now, and the tug to be closer to him was persistently present in the back of her mind. As always.

It took him a second to register what she had said, proving her point. He chuckled, nodding once before ducking his head. It was a mannerism of his that he often displayed while embarrassed and- she had been paying too much attention to him. "You could say that."

Despite the chuckle, he wasn't smiling. His gaze kept darting to the front door expectantly, the faux happiness he was attempting to show fading each time he did so. She felt herself begin to drain along with him, the realization finally hitting her: He _had_ been hoping for his dad to show up.

After all, it was the first Christmas they could have spent together since Reverse Flash had murdered Nora. His dad was finally, finally out of prison, and had moved practically the day after being released. Caitlin knew Henry's intentions were good, but she also knew they had hurt Barry in ways he would never admit.

All of that waiting. All of that hope. All of those dreams. Gone.

She had her own experiences with high expectations for a life, dreams filled with happiness and stability, before it had all been ripped away from her. Twice. She understood him better than either of them understood.

Caitlin drifted towards him without bothering to think it through (for once), placing a hand on his arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Barry quickly glanced over at her, eyes meeting hers again. This time, the gaze didn't falter.

"I'm sorry your father wasn't here tonight."

He cracked a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. I should be happy - we defeated the villains, the Trickster and the Weather Wizard are back in prison. No one got hurt. We won. Everyone was happy tonight, Wally even showed up-"

Caitlin held up her other hand to stop him. "Everyone _except_ you was happy tonight." He didn't move to disagree, but raised his eyebrows as if to ask her to prove her point. Well, she wouldn't be herself if she didn't accept a challenge. "I saw you, Barry. You might be able to convince everybody else, but not me."

"You know me too well, Cait."

She wondered just when they had progressed from _Dr. Snow_ to _Cait_. She knew it had been awhile back ago, but couldn't recall an exact date. As if the growth had just faded steadily into existence in the background.

A beat passed, a comforting silence falling over them before he shattered it. He subtly shrugged off her hand, and she stepped back, trying to mask the hurt she felt. It wasn't like him to move away from her. "Why are you here?"

Her lips parted slightly in shock, and she stammered out an answer, "I just- you looked like you needed to talk to, but I'll- I'll just go home." Alone, because that was how everyone wanted to spend their Christmas night.

"No, no!" Barry said quickly. "No, I didn't mean it like that, sorry, sorry. I just meant, why are you sticking around here and letting me bring you down?"

This time, she arched her brows at him, the movement delicate and curious.

Barry sighed, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Nervous mannerism, similar to ducking his head. Goodness, how much had she picked up about him? "I, um, saw you and Jay."

Caitlin blinked.

He seemed to take this as a cue to continue, even though it most definitely was not. "Kissing under the mistletoe. I would have figured- I mean-"

"I think you know better than anyone that I don't spend the night with someone just because of a mistletoe kiss."

It slipped out before she could stifle it. The implication in his tone set her off, the thought of spending tonight with Jay just because of one kiss getting under her skin. But the second she said it, she regretted it - they had never discussed their kiss last Christmas, and with good reason. Just like she had never discussed how Everyman kissed her as Barry.

Some things were better left unsaid.

Barry flushed a shade of red that matched aesthetically with the holiday decorations strung throughout the Wests' living room. "No, no! I mean, yes, of course I know that- I wasn't trying to imply that, honestly." She shot him a doubtful look, which he missed, too occupied with stuttering out apology after apology, excuse after excuse.

For the second time tonight, she held up a hand to stop him. "Okay, it's fine, it's fine. I shouldn't have said that, and I should've known you wouldn't mean it that way."

It wasn't his fault that the thought of spending the night with Jay made her stomach twist up in knots. And not the good nervous kind. The uneasy kind. The kind that made her wonder why she was letting herself get trapped in this stranger's orbit in the first place, especially when he was planning on returning to a different planet soon.

It was ridiculously impractical.

Especially when she hardly felt anything for the man.

Oh, the attraction was certainly there. Maybe even a crush, but she had an awful sinking feeling that it wasn't the type of crush that could ever shift into love. She would try to convince herself otherwise everyday, that perhaps this could work, but she wasn't believing it (yet).

Barry fiddled with his fingers. Another nervous habit. The poor boy must really be a wreck tonight, and she didn't seem to be helping things despite her good intentions. "Right. Well, um, I'm still sorry. I was just trying to say, you know, you seem . . . really happy."

There was something eerily familiar to her about his tone, that same sense of deja vu to last year hitting her full-force, but she couldn't quite pinpoint it. This was _nothing_ like their conversation last year, so why-?

"And I don't want to mess with that," he continued. "You deserve to be happy, especially after- everything. Everything that happened, everything that I caused-"

"I already told you that I don't blame you for that."

"Even if you don't, I do."

They didn't have to name what they were referring to. The pain, which had lulled into a steady ache for Caitlin these days, was something they both felt and neither cared to truly acknowledge. Not tonight. Not on Christmas.

Suddenly, he let out a groan, running his hand over his face. Fourth nervous habit. She was starting to worry. "God, and now here I am, reminding you of all of that on Christmas. I'm really not thinking tonight, and that's no excuse, I'm sor-"

Impulsively, she reached up, covering his mouth with her hand to stifle his apology. "I don't think I can take it if you apologize one more time tonight," she admitted. "Don't."

Barry nodded, and she slowly dropped her hand. "Yes, ma'am," he muttered, a trace of mocking in his tone. Usually it would annoy her, but tonight, she found relief in it. Playfulness was better than an abundance of stress.

Caitlin's fingers curled around his wrist in what was supposed to be a friendly gesture. Unfortunately, friendly gestures didn't usually send a jolt throughout her.

(She would dwell on that another day, admit it to herself another night. And so she did, once this evening would feel like centuries ago, when she was slowly turning into Killer Frost, and he would kick her feet out from under him, her back hitting the concrete pavement forcefully as she landed right next to him. Exactly where she wanted to be.

 _ **I'm sorry, Caitlin.**_

Those would be the three words that would shock the realization out of her, when she wasn't even really herself, and she would kiss him, both as herself and as the villain she didn't really wish to be. She would nearly kill him, and later she would hate herself for it, and use that hate to lash out at him.

 _You did this to me._

It was easier than blaming herself, after all these years of blaming herself for everything else. The one time it truly was her fault, she wouldn't be able to bring herself to take responsibility. Taking responsibility would mean admitting the truth to herself.

Which she would later on. Eventually.

 _We're a team, right? Barry and Caitlin, at it again._

 ** _You're not Caitlin. And I'm not Barry._**

Needless to say, that would sting. Quite a lot. But we're getting too far ahead of ourselves, aren't we? That's a story for another cold winter's night.)

Caitlin's gaze flitted up to meet his, her lips curving into a tentative smile. "Come sit down," she whispered, lightly tugging him towards the couch. He easily could have protested, but didn't, not even when she clumsily pulled him down onto the sofa next to her, perhaps a little too close.

He didn't move away. Nor did he pull his wrist out of her grasp.

Nor did she intend to let go any time soon.

This was nice, she realized. Nice seemed like a dreadful understatement, but there was no better word to describe the peaceful simplicity of this. Sitting next to him, surrounded by twinkling Christmas nights in the silence of the room.

This felt like home.

"So you and Jay," Barry began, breaking the silence again. There was something about the way he said Jay's name, with an edge that rivaled Harry's own disliking of the former speedster. "Are you two, like, _together_ now?"

Caitlin frowned, tilting her head to the side in confusion. She didn't understand why he was asking about her relationship life. Didn't he have other things to worry about? "Why do you ask?"

"I mean, I guess I was just curious- like I said, that mistletoe kiss, him kissing you-"

If it had been anyone else, literally anyone else, she would have assumed they were jealous.

But this was Barry, and she hadn't seen him display any sign of envy since Iris had been with Eddie. That was quite awhile ago. She especially couldn't recall him ever showing jealousy towards her love life before.

Besides, he was in a relationship with Patty.

"If you're afraid it's going to interfere with us catching Zoom, you don't need to worry about that. I understand how to keep my relationship life separate from my work life."

Barry nodded, not meeting her eyes anymore, instead looking down at his wrist, which her fingers were still twined around. She had the thought to pull away, but didn't follow through with it. She didn't want to. Just yet. "Yeah, no, I know that. It isn't that."

"Then what is it?"

He glanced up at Caitlin. There was such a strong amount of seriousness, of emotion in that look, her grip on his wrist loosened just from the sheer shock of it. She had never seen him look at anyone that way before. Not even Iris.

Then he broke eye contact, feigning interest in the nearby Christmas tree instead. She let out a breath she had been unaware she was holding. Intensity with Barry Allen was something that always made her unmistakably nervous.

"Nothing, it's nothing," he said after a quiet moment. He was still looking at the tree instead of her, despite the fact that she was quite clearly staring at him. "I'm happy you're happy."

There was that ominous deja vu again.

(It wouldn't occur to her until much later on, despite how she had remembered it just a few moments before. _**I'm happy she's happy, it's just . . .**_ )

"Thanks, Barry," Caitlin mumbled. Although she wasn't entirely certain she was happy. Happiness usually didn't feel like melancholy. She felt like she could choke on the forlorn of it all, as impossible as that was.

They would spend the rest of the evening talking. Not about Jay, not about Patty or Iris, not about Zoom or the metahumans they were supposed to catch every week. Only talking, like two friends would. Two normal friends.

(Two normal friends who were abashedly in love with one another, too terrified of the potential consequences to admit it even to themselves, that is.)

And if she eventually fell asleep with her head on his shoulder? If he kissed her forehead as she slept, before dozing off curled up next to her, feeling content for the first time in months?

Well, they would never discuss it.

It was just for now, anyway.

(If he would mumble _Cait_ in his sleep, and she would catch it even when she was only half-conscious, it would never be acknowledged. If she remembered it the following morning, the following week, month, year, she would never speak of it.

And later on, once it was all said and done and they would discover Zoom's true identity, she still wouldn't speak of it. Not even as Jay pleaded, _please, Cait_ , and she would snap at him, _do not call me that_. He would assume it was because of the anger she felt towards him for betraying them all, and maybe that would be a little bit of it, but not the majority.

It would be the fact that she simply could not hear that nickname without thinking of Barry Allen. Hearing it come from anyone else's mouth, especially Jay's, would only make her feel sick.

Some things were better left unsaid.)


End file.
